Chapter Two #3
Once the cops come, they check out the business before declaring it clear for me to go inside, at which point I have to step over a brick that was thrown through the glass. Thank God whoever it was didn’t get inside. My equipment and cases are all intact, and I blow out a relieved breath.
A forensic analyst arrives to dust for prints and bag the brick for evidence, while another officer takes my statement.
I debate telling them about Colton’s attack and threats, but that could only lead to them contacting the police department at home to question him, and I don’t want to alert him to where I am on the very off chance this is a coincidence.
If they find his prints, they’ll have proof.
He has a record, after all. But if they don’t, they can’t accuse him anyway.
Finally, they leave me alone with the mess of my shop.
Luckily for me, the man who owns the clothing store on one side comes by and calls a few friends, who board up the door until I can get someone in to fix it during the week.
And there is nothing I can do about the graffiti until the window washers can fit me in.
I refuse to let my brother frighten me out of my own shop, so despite the boarded window and mess outside, I prepare my candy for the day and open for business.
* * *
Jason
Three days pass before I’m able to give my undivided attention to Faith.
I don’t want to approach her with something heavy on my mind, and with my mother’s divorce going on in Florida, her sudden spate of phone calls to me, my brother Alex’s follow-ups, and Sienna’s added distress, combined with the business issues, I’ve had my hands full.
When I see Faith again, I want to be wholly focused on more than just asking her to contact Izzy about Noah’s birthday party favors.
I want a game plan for us.
Gabe’s comment about my actions when it comes to Faith stays with me.
Letting her go easily doesn’t sound like the Dare way.
I’m well aware that Gabe waited a long time for Izzy, and when he finally got his chance, he had to let her go find herself before she could truly become his.
However, Gabe kept a silent eye on her the entire time.
With Faith’s face and sexy body in my dreams and firmly entrenched in my mind, I have been fighting my instinct not to get involved when everything inside me screams out for me to check on her.
See her again. Make sure the tire was a fluke, and she is safe and okay.
Now, I finally have a reason to seek her out, and I decide to push harder to see what could be between us.
I might not want to add someone else to the list of people I have to worry about, but in one short night, she got under my skin, giving me no choice.
I head for my car and type her store name into Waze, ready to put my plan into motion. Except when I approach the shop, located on the left, as my direction-voice tells me, I see graffiti covering the windows and the door to her store boarded up.
“Fuck.” Stomach churning, protective instincts growing inside me, I drive around, searching for a parking spot, finally settling on a lot a few blocks away. I give my car to an attendant and rush down the street and over to Sweet Treats.
I open the door, which still works, and step inside. The sweet smell immediately assaults me, a delicious, welcoming scent that reminds me of my candy girl. Inside, there is no hint of vandalism, thank goodness, but I don’t see Faith.
“Hello?” I call out.
She immediately pops up from where she must have been kneeling down by the counter. “Jason!” she says, obviously surprised to see me.
“What the hell happened here?” I ask, knowing I sound pissed because I am. Who would terrorize a woman this way?
She sighs. “The store was vandalized on Sunday, and nobody’s been willing to come out and fix it until sometime next week.”
“Sunday? Why the hell didn’t you call me?” Guilt for ignoring my gut instinct immediately fills me.
Didn’t I worry about the slashed tire? Didn’t I know better than to disregard what my instinct told me was important? I tamp down thoughts of Levi. Faith is here in front of me, safe at least right now, and I intend to make sure she stays that way.
“Seriously?” She strides out from behind the counter, hands settled on her hips, and glares at me. “I barely know you. Why would I bother you with my problems?”
I step closer, placing my hand beneath her chin, our gazes locked in a war of wills.
“Because there was a connection between us, and you know it. And because I can help you and clearly”—I sweep my arm toward the door—“you need that help and support. Where is Kelsey?” I ask more gently, stroking a hand over Faith’s cheek before stepping back and giving her space.
Faith lets out a breathy groan. “She’s out with the flu. I’ve been holding things down here alone, but like I said, people aren’t coming in. I think they’re avoiding me because of the graffiti and damage.” She frowns, appearing more angry than scared, for which I am grateful.
I take her soft hand in mine and look her over, inspecting her body, from her feet in pink Chucks, up her legs, past her apron, over her abundant and tempting breasts, to her hair piled on top of her head. “You look fine,” I mutter to myself, relieved.
She blinks in clear disbelief. “Now that’s a good way to turn a lady’s head. You look fine,” she says in a damned good imitation of me.
I shake my head and grin. “I meant, you appear unharmed and you look fucking fantastic.” And she does. The messy bun and hot pink tee shirt with her store logo hugging her curves suit her.
She laughs. “Now you’re just sugarcoating the truth.”
“And you’re trying to avoid discussing what happened here.” I pull her over to the nearest table and hold out a chair. “Sit and talk to me.”
She narrows her gaze as she lowers herself into the chair. “I came in early on Sunday and found … this.” She gestures to the window, her expression alternatively sad, then furious.
I slide my chair closer to hers before settling in. “Do you think it’s related to the slashed tire?”
“I have no idea,” she says, as her entire expression suddenly shuts down.
It isn’t my imagination, either. One minute she was engaged in the conversation; the next she closed herself off to me.
From the minute I laid eyes on her, I marked her as special.
I still won’t let myself think of her as mine.
She’s right in saying we barely know each other.
But if she thinks I’m going to let her get away with deflecting about something as important as her safety, she is about to learn that I don’t screw around when it comes to people I care about.
And she’s just been added to that short list.